


Mostly Concerning Granby

by Rikku



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 09:55:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikku/pseuds/Rikku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two captains play cards to pass the time. Set during Empire of Ivory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mostly Concerning Granby

"Laurence," said Temeraire anxiously, nuzzling him, and being nuzzled by a dragon is an experience more than adequate to waking even the most stubborn of sleepers; Laurence woke with a start, reaching out a hand to steady himself against Temeraire's hide. He was sitting on the dragon's foreleg, in his usual place; and while losing his balance would be unlikely, he was already dressed only in his oldest shirt and breeches, without coat or neckcloth, and had no particular wish to be splattered by mud and thus made even less respectable. Temeraire was the only one around to see him at present, but all the same, it rankled him to be improperly presented.

"I'm sorry, my dear," Laurence said apologetically, with an attempt at a smile; "my mind drifted," which was an understatement rather, but Temeraire would be hardly likely to appreciate his captain falling asleep in the middle of a conversation. (Even if it was such a dull one, Laurence thought, and then felt guilty.)

"It is not so difficult a language," Temeraire said, looking a little crestfallen. He turned his sleek dark head back to the tub of sand and made another few strokes, drawing a different Chinese character. "You see, this one represents …" he started, and then said reproachfully, "Laurence, you are asleep again."

Laurence started awake with a guilty, "No! No."

Temeraire nudged him with his nose again, looking more rather than less concerned. "If you do not wish to learn—"

"It isn't that," Laurence said, stroking his nose – though it was, at least in part. He knew that Temeraire had been happier by far with how dragons were treated in China, as equals rather than beasts; knew, too, that any attempt on Temeraire's part to properly acquaint him with the language likely reflected his dragon's wish to return. "It is just this illness; it is a matter of great concern, and while I am glad that you are well, England is sorely struck by it, and I would be no patriot if I could manage high spirits at such a time. And that even if I didn't know personally so many of the afflicted, and their captains; and understand how grievously it wounds both."

"I would like to see Maximus and Lily," Temeraire said, very low, his ruff drooping.

Laurence stroked his nose again, and said nothing.

After a while Temeraire brightened a little and suggested, "Perhaps you could visit Jane?"

"Ah?" said Laurence blankly.

"Because you always seem more cheerful after such visits; and you are so downcast at present, I am certain it would help you to—"

"I beg your pardon, I hear Granby calling," Laurence said, hastily, and made his escape.

He heard no such thing, and regretted lying to his dearest companion; but there was no denying that Temeraire could be appallingly tactless at times, and right now, with Laurence's head pounding sorely and his limbs stiff and weak from worry, was not a time he particularly wanted to try and explain proper decorum to a creature as large as a dozen houses piled together and much more likely to ask awkward questions. It was not, he hoped, a _complete_ lie; he and his former lieutenant had taken to meeting, discretely, about halfway between their two dragons' clearings, though more often in the early evening when the dragons were occupied with eating. Laurence enjoyed these meetings. As he and Granby were the only captains whose dragons were still healthy, the other aviators could not help but look at them with a little resentment, and so it made sense for them to seek each other's company; and in addition to this, Laurence had found himself missing the steady presence of his lieutenant once Granby no longer rode on Temeraire. He did not resent Granby's promotion, and delighted in the fact that the Corps now had a fire-breather, but it meant that the two of them had less opportunity for conversation, something which Laurence found rankled more than he would've expected it to. So it was not a complete lie, as there was, he supposed, a slight chance that Granby would indeed be sitting at the small table they'd set up midway between the two clearings.

He was not. Laurence settled down and fetched out the cards, to play a solitary game to pass the time until he judged it reasonably safe to return without risk of Temeraire returning to their earlier conversation. Within ten minutes, though, he spotted the newly-promoted captain's gangly form approaching him, and smiled.

Granby called, with a rueful grin, "Iskierka is insisting that I wear at all times a number of large gold chains, to set me apart from the other captains."

"Temeraire," said Laurence, not to be outdone, "is teaching me Chinese."

"Trying to, you mean," said Granby, settling down, and producing a bottle of passable wine and two glasses. He always supplied the drink, and Laurence supplied the cards; they would've played the game in one or other clearing, but Temeraire insisted on trying to participate despite the fact that his claws were far larger than could be reasonable in such an enterprise, and Iskierka had an unfortunate habit of igniting drink and cards alike.

"That he is not succeeding owes more to faults in me than in him," said Laurence, trying to be fair. Granby poured the wine, though to judge by the slight slur he was well in his cups already. Laurence couldn't fault him that; these were hard times. He dealt and continued, "Were we not at war, I have not the slightest doubt that Temeraire would long since have kidnapped me and returned to China with all due haste, and duty be damned." He was exaggerating, of course; Temeraire wished to improve conditions for dragons in England, not just return to where they were already treated well. And he noted the profanity with slight surprise, but then, Granby _did_ have a habit of bringing out the less formal side of him.

"Hell!" said Granby, grinning. "I do hope not; Iskierka would doubtless have snatched me up and followed the two of you for no other reason than to prove that she too could learn Chinese, or some such ludicrous fancy." He spoke in the fondest tones imaginable.

Laurence couldn't help but smile at that. "I hope not," he said. "She couldn't help but set fire to the pavilions. Your hand, John," he added, seeing his companion seemed inclined to forget the game altogether.

"Oh – sorry, Laurence," Granby said, turning his attention back to it, frowning a little. "It is only that—"

"I understand completely," Laurence said, in a gentler voice than he'd normally use; these times were rough on all of them, and he could easily forgive a little distraction, and would forgive it from Granby in any case.

"She is the very devil to manage," Granby said, a few hands later. "She reminds me," he added, with mischief in his tones, "of that old Bible fable, and perhaps she is the serpent in question, the one who offered a pear to Adam; except instead of pears it is gold chains."

Laurence stared at him, appalled, and opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again; being so stunned by both the blasphemy and the sheer inaccuracy that he wasn't quite sure where to begin. Granby grinned broadly at his consternation, and Laurence flushed a little in embarrassment and turned back to his cards, more for distraction than interest in the game. Granby seemed to have a fondness for unsettling him, particularly after he'd drunk a little. 

"You're easier to fluster than usual," Granby offered, after some time had passed and Laurence had said nothing.

Laurence thought he saw in this some glimmer of apology, and found himself saying, rather to his horror, "It is nothing, pray do not let it concern you, only – Temeraire is so very fond of China—"

He cut off abruptly and frowned down at the table, because his voice was in danger of breaking. He knew Temeraire would never leave him, of course not; for a dragon to leave his captain was unthinkable; but for a captain to keep his dragon in one country when he so obviously preferred another seemed, to Laurence, just as unthinkable, and if, after the war, Temeraire still showed the inclination to return, Laurence had no inkling what he'd do.

The two of them were close by this point, despite their friendship's rocky beginning, and Laurence was not particularly surprised when Granby's hand settled reassuringly on his shoulder; and closer to shocked than surprised when Granby stroked his neck comfortingly, a much more intimate caress than was within the bounds of decorum. Laurence was surprised enough to look up again with all thoughts of China entirely forgotten, staring at his fellow captain.

"Your _hand_ , John," said Laurence, more coldly than he'd intended; and after a pause Granby pulled his hand away, his face oddly blank. 

They returned to their game, but the warm atmosphere of camaraderie and companionship had entirely disappeared, leaving a strained silence in its wake. Laurence found himself stealing glances at his companion over the cards, frowning. It was not terribly unusual for Laurence to fall silent at these meetings of theirs, much as he loved the conversation and society of his fellows; the closeness of their friendship, based on much combat faced together, meant that he was rather more predisposed to occasionally let the conversation falter with Granby than he was with others, knowing that it wouldn't be held against him. Granby, though … Granby was near-always in good humour, and even when he wasn't he tried his best to act like he was – and even when he wasn't trying to seem to be in good cheer, it'd take a lot to quiet him, being more the sort of person to complain of circumstances rather than sulk silently about them. The last time Laurence remembered him being this disconsolate was when he had thought that his family were in danger of attack, and even then he'd made a valiant stab at being cheerful. 

It worried Laurence rather, and, compelled by guilt, he made a few awkward attempts at reviving the conversation, and felt pained when, each time, Granby answered briefly and coldly and showed not the slightest inclination to restore matters to how they had been. After the eighth such occasion, Laurence found himself growing frustrated, but he didn't know what to do; he had not the slightest idea how matters such as these were handled in the Corps, or if they were at all. Certainly such conduct would be abhorred in the society he was more used to, but … yes, perhaps this sort of thing was more normal in the Corps, with their lessened discipline and formality. With this in mind he said, abruptly, "John—" and took his hand and kissed it.

Granby stared at him, and then, to Laurence's tremendous relief, grinned. "Do you think me some fine lady to be courted?" he said, though he didn't look displeased, not in the slightest.

Laurence answered stiffly, "I merely have no knowledge of how such things are handled in—"

"Oh I can tell _that_ ," said Granby, and Laurence bristled. Granby, apparently ignoring this, took a thoughtful sip of wine and suggested, "Perhaps you'll end up having to ask Temeraire for advice? He's rather a romantic."

Laurence flinched at this suggestion. "John—"

"He would doubtless suggest giving me treasure," said Granby, looking amused by the notion. "You can give me treasure if you like," he added, generously, "only I'd advise you not to let Temeraire choose it, he thinks things are expensive just because they shine pretty."

"John—"

"I'd have to parade around the place draped in chains of polished brass and glass-paste! Though Iskierka seems inclined to have me so in any case, to be fair."

" _John_ ," said Laurence, by this point irritated as well as flustered.

"And perhaps he would suggest you uproot whole trees to give me in place of bouquets – though, again, Iskierka would be taken with the notion, she's terribly fond of bonfires."

"J—"

"And he would suggest you write poetry for me, and maybe even help," said Granby thoughtfully, barely able to contain his amusement now, "and you'd be forever lugging sand around, to write them in—"

"John," said Laurence, the word half a laugh, albeit a reluctant one; he brought up a hand to half-cover his face, so great was his embarrassment. He now rather wished he'd made no gesture at all, even if he _did_ hate seeing his friend so downcast. Granby looked at him thoughtfully, and then swatted his hand aside and tucked his own hand behind Laurence's head and pulled him closer and kissed him.

It was wholly unexpected, and Laurence made a small startled sound in protest, almost a squawk; Granby kissed him harder to quiet him. Laurence quietened. It was rather an awkward situation, considering that there was the small table between them; Granby had had to pull Laurence half to his feet, and was half standing as well, and all in all it was quite entirely awkward for both of them, though Granby didn't seem to mind.

He didn't kiss like Jane at all.

When Granby finally pulled away, grinning, Laurence stared at him without knowing what to say. He could feel his face heating, and knew his hair was entirely disordered, and this his utter lack of composure was probably plain on his face; and he took some comfort from the fact that Granby's fair skin was flushed as well, his eyes gleaming, his breathing rough and unsteady. 

"Lord, and I am completely without a neckcloth," Laurence said, in plaintive tones; his embarrassment only increasing as Granby started to laugh.


End file.
